Bad Men
by Pmp2a-Trish
Summary: Kid and Heyes are on the run from a posse. Desperate to get out of sight, they take refuge with a man and his daughter. Warning: not necessarily "dark," more "edgy."


**Bad Men**

The wood dug into his back as he pressed himself closer to the wall of the shack that sat just outside of town. His side burned, ribs busted, he was sure. Closing his eyes, he tried to control his breathing, desperate to not let anyone hear his futile attempt to take a deep breath. Turning his gun to the noise behind him, he saw his partner, Kid Curry, duck under a window and equally press himself to the wood beside him. "Just one horse in the stable."

Heyes looked back and forth, once again surveying his options. "We could be walking in on a mess of trouble."

"If we don't get out of sight, the trouble will find us."

Heyes nodded in agreement. Cautiously walking to the front door, they continued to survey their surroundings. With his partner beside the door and out of sight, he knocked.

"Who's there?" A voice came from the other side.

"My name's Frank Hornbecker. My horse got spooked and I was thrown, I'm hurt. I was hoping I could get some help into town." His voiced cracked, grateful that it made him sound more believable, annoyed that he didn't do it on purpose.

The door opened, just slightly. A thin man stared out, unsure, nervous. "Doc Simpson lives right across the way, I'm sure he'd be glad to help."

Heyes pressed his hand against the wood, keeping it from closing. "Sir, I'm just not sure I can make it that far."

Fear flashed in the man's eyes. Before he could turn, a hammer was pulled back. From the darkness, Kid's voice spoke volumes, "I'd advise that you take a step back."

His worst fear realized, he froze.

With a single push, Heyes opened the door as the two outlaws entered, guns drawn. The man was scrawny, a half a foot shorter than either outlaw, and a good fifty pounds lighter. Spectacles rested on over his eyes, shaggy hair nearly covering them. "What do you want?" Puffing out his chest, he tried in vain to appear confident.

"Just need a safe place to stay." He searched for any threat in the room, his left arm still tight around his chest. "Kid, find his guns."

"Papa, who was at…" A young girl, no more than fifteen walked in the room, frozen at the sight of the guns pointed in her direction.

"Mary Sue!" Her father shouted, frightened.

Heyes' smile darkened. "Now, let's not get nervous. Ms. Mary, why don't you just come over here?" Still frozen in fear, and unable to take a step, she slowly started to cry.

"Ma'am."

Behind him, Heyes heard Kid's voice, his tone. Suppressing an irritated sigh, he glanced back. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate Kid's more gentle ways, but it did, on occasion, interfere with their attempts to appear menacing.

"My partner and I need you and your father to cooperate. Do that and no harm will come to you or him. Do you understand?" She quietly nodded yes. "Good. Now, Mr…?"

"Graham, Aaron Graham."

"Now, Mr. Graham. Is there anyone else in the house?" He asked.

"It's just me and Mary Sue. Her ma died about six months ago."

"If you would kindly direct me to your firearms, while my partner stays with your daughter."

Nervous eyes went from the girl to the injured outlaw, unsure, unmoving.

"You heard my partner. No harm will come to her, provided you do as we ask." His dark eyes turned to black, quickly erasing any further negotiation.

Cautiously, the man proceeded to his front table and gently handed a revolver to the Kid who placed it in his holster. They then walked to the back room – Kid at the man's back. Heyes moved to the front window, looking out but not letting the young girl out of his sight.

"You're injured." She spoke softly, slowly gaining the courage to walk in his direction.

"Mm-hmm." He muttered, stifling the pain he was feeling.

"What happened?"

"I was thrown from my horse, landed on a set of rocks." Taking a deep breath, he tried to not show the intensity of the pain he was feeling.

"My ma was a nurse, she showed me how to bandage wounds. I could help if you like?"

Just for a moment, he looked at her. She was young, small frame with deep blue eyes that peered behind dark brown curls. Her fear had subsided. "To be honest, ma'am, I think your father is nervous enough, I don't imagine me taking off my shirt will help his nerves any."

She blushed. "You're an outlaw, aren't you?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Are you a killer?"

He took a breath. He debated his next words; torn between putting her at ease and keeping her compliant. "I'll repeat just one more time. If you and your father do as you're asked, no harm will come to you."

"And if we don't?" She was braver than he liked.

"I'd advise that we don't find that out." He held her stare.

"This is all of them." Kid came back in the room, a rifle under his arm, two pistols, and a shotgun. Opening the door, he glanced outside. With a quick look to Heyes, he walked out.

"Where is he taking those?" Graham stormed towards the door, only to be blocked by Heyes with his gun pointed at the man's belly.

"He's just putting them somewhere safe. Before we leave, we'll tell you where you can find them. Perhaps you and your daughter should just have a seat, when he gets back, we have a few things we need to talk over." With the pistol he motioned towards the couch.

"I won't have two outlaws staying in my house!" The man declared as his daughter pulled him back down on the couch, keeping him from angering them further.

Heyes held his gun trained on the man, his shirt opened as the Kid tightened the cloth around his chest. "It'll only be for a few days. Just long enough for the posse to head on back home." Just as the Kid finished the knot, he winced.

"And then you two will leave?"

"Yes sir."

"What are your names?" She asked, innocently.

With a look to each another, they shrugged in agreement, "My name is Kid Curry, ma'am. This is my partner, Hannibal Heyes."

"Curry and Heyes?" She asked, excitedly. "I've heard of you! Remember, pa? I bought those dime novels off of Jimmy Bond, ten for a quarter?"

"Ma'am, it's real nice that you've heard of us and all, but I wouldn't go basin' your opinion off of what you read in a dime novel."

"No ma'am, I ran across one that said my partner here took out a pack of wolves with a single shot. He's good, but not that good."

She shrugged, "Perhaps they exaggerate a bit. But there are two things they all have in common. Each one said that you stole from the rich and gave to the poor – just like Robin Hood. They also state that neither of you ever shot anyone!"

Heyes took a deep breath. As proud as he was that neither he nor his partner had become killers, it was a fact that would embolden those they came up against. It would make them braver, more daring, and more dangerous.

Kid opened his revolver, checking the bullets inside. "Ma'am, like I said, I wouldn't go basin' your opinion of us off what you've read. I can promise you; we kept every dime we ever stole. As for shootin' folks, I'll admit it's not something we like doin'."

"Not something we won't do." Heyes finished, darkly.

* * *

"You folks have anything in here to eat?" He could handle a sheriff, a bounty hunter, hell, he could even handle a well-armed posse. But there was one thing he couldn't handle and that was hunger. Making the hunger worse was the waitin'. Just waitin' for nighttime to come, waitin' for a couple of days to pass, waitin' to leave. During all this waitin', he'd be waitin' for something to happen, for Mr. Graham to get lucky or to get stupid, waitin' for him to make a run at bein' a hero, waitin' for their luck to run out. He had to be steadfast, he'd have to watch everything and with his partner hurt, he had to be two sets of eyes, instead of just one.

His partner still leaned against the window, barely moving while he watched the man and his daughter. Thankfully, they'd quieted after their discussion, content to sit and equally watch the outlaws.

"There are some cans in the cabinet." Mr. Graham stated, grumpily.

"I could make us dinner." Mary suggested with a smile. Standing, she took a step forward before her father grabbed her arm. "Papa, you know how ornery you get on an empty stomach. I can only imagine they are no better." Begrudgingly, he let go of her hand, letting her walk towards the outlaws. "We have a few steaks in our smokehouse, I could make steak and potatoes. Even the lettuce is still in season, a salad, perhaps?" She asked, hopefully.

* * *

It had gotten dark outside, a benefit of the nights growing shorter. With another look outside, Heyes motioned towards the door, "I don't see anyone out there, make it quick."

Outside, the Kid followed the young girl to the smokehouse, then to the garden. As she was cutting some fresh lettuce and combing through the remaining tomato and cucumber vines, Kid kept watch of their surroundings. As grateful as he was for the trees and foliage – it protected them from any curious eyes, it also made it harder for him to spot anyone watching as well. The houses were spaced apart, forest and fields separating them. Behind the house sat the small barn, barely big enough to hold a few horses and a carriage. He'd hidden the guns inside the barn, under a stack of hay, in the same stall he had placed his horse.

"I don't think I believe you." She stated, nonchalantly as she pulled at the cucumber vine. "You wouldn't hurt us. You might tie us up, but not hurt us."

His expression unchanged, Kid lowered his voice, "It would be best for both you and your father to not find out if you're wrong."

A moment passed and then two, as she continued her search among the plants and vines.

"I'm worried about your partner; he appears hurt worse than you realize." Grabbing the last tomato, she began the walk back to the house, slowly. When he didn't respond, she continued. "His breathing is much too labored and he's unable to get a decent breath; that isn't a good sign."

"Probably broke a rib or two, that's all." He tried to sound confident, sure of what he was saying, but couldn't deny – to himself anyways – that she was right. Heyes had spent the evening leaning against the window frame, barely moving lest he wince in pain. Every few moments he would take a long breath but appear no more relieved with the excess air. He hated that they had to take refuge with strangers. When the posse arrived, the gang split up, a set of two men going in different directions. The posse should have split up as well, but it didn't. Instead they stayed on their heels, never slowing, and never relenting. Just after they'd crossed a river, they had gained some speed, putting distance between them and their pursuers, only to have Heyes' horse stumble, throwing her rider. He heard the horse cry out, looking back just in time to see his friend land on a large rock and yell out in pain. As he turned his own horse, he saw the other animal limp about, they would have to abandon the beast. As he reached Heyes and pulled him to his rear, another loud cry escaped his friend's lips. Less than a mile later, he felt Heyes start to slip – he couldn't breathe. With Devil's Hole being too far away, they had to find somewhere safe. Just as they turned the corner, they saw the smattering of houses. None looked promising, it was a gamble to choose which one might have the fewest inhabitants.

"He'll be fine." He lied as he directed her back to the house.

* * *

"Damnit!" Kid yelled as soon as he walked through the door. Heyes was leaning against the window, his eyes closed, Mr. Graham nowhere to be seen. Going to his partner, he gently slapped him, "Damnit Heyes, wake up."

With a start, he opened his eyes, "What? What happened?" He looked about wildly.

"You fell asleep is what happened." Pulling his gun out of his holster, he pulled Mary Sue to him and raised his voice. "You wanted to find out if there was any truth in those dime novels. If your pa doesn't come out, you're gonna find out, real sudden like."

Their eyes met, and he saw the fear and the uncertainty. He could feel her starting to tremble under his grip. Yet, he knew the man was still in the house, while they were outside, the front door never left his sight and he had no doubt the man wouldn't leave his only daughter in the hands of wanted outlaws.

A moment passed and then two.

"Alright." He stepped out of his bedroom, his hands high in surrender.

"Search him." Heyes commanded, struggling to sound stronger than he felt, his own gun trained on the young girl.

Roughly pushing the man against the wall, he heard Mary gasp. He checked his arms, his front pockets, his waist, and then his boots. Just barely sticking out, under his pants leg, he felt the handle of a knife. Taking it, he roughly turned the man around, placing the blade just under his jaw. "My partner and I are trying real hard to be patient. We've been chased and we've been shot at, I have no problem keeping the both of you tied up like prized pigs." Taking away the knife, he pulled out some raw hide from his back pocket, tying the man's hands together, tightly. "We were trying to be nice about this…" Finishing the knot, he pulled the man to the couch, roughly pushing him onto it. As he turned, he saw her sitting in a chair at the table, her hands still over her mouth in fear, the uncooked food to her right. His anger still at the surface, he yelled, "Don't you have something to do?"

Sobbing, she stood, took the food in hand and started to prepare the meal.

With the deepest of breaths, he tried to calm down. He hated yelling, hated yelling at a woman even more. He had started fights with men that had done less and cursed himself for his behavior. Going to Heyes, he pulled him away from the window, gently pushing him towards the chair. "You need to sit."

"I'll be fine."

"You almost got yourself killed."

As he lowered himself into the chair, he gripped his side. "Don't know what happened, just closed my eyes for a second."

"He needs to lay down." Mary spoke softly.

Kid took a deep breath, "I can't be watching both them and you."

"Kid…" Heyes tried to get out.

"Heyes, I can handle out here. There's a nice comfy bed in that back room. Go lay on it, we'll bring you something to eat when it is ready."

Unable to argue, he slowly stood and did as he was told.

* * *

For the first time he could remember, he struggled to eat; his hunger dissolved and replaced instead by worry. He had a clear view of Mary Sue, gently feeding his partner. Unable to chew the steak without wincing in pain, she fed him an extra helping of potatoes. But with each spoonful, he'd close his eyes - a sure sign that the movement had sent another stab of pain into his side.

At the table, just to his left, Mr. Graham sat – tied to the chair legs, shooting the darkest of looks his way.

"I once knew an outlaw. Samuel Paul. He was shot down by a posse. May the Good Lord let the same thing happen to you."

"I knew Sam. It wasn't a posse that killed him. He got drunk one night and tried to jump a creek. His horse panicked and threw him; busted his neck." He glared at the small man. "His girl at the saloon didn't like the truth, so she made up a lie to tell their son."

"Besides, we don't wish ill upon our fellow man, now do we pa?" She carried the half-eaten plate and set it on the counter. Leaning against it, she wiped her hands. "Mr. Heyes is asleep. Each spoonful was depriving him of a breath of air that he needed much more."

"You should'a put a pillow over his face." Her pa grumbled.

"Pa! That's enough." She started to cry in earnest, the stress of the night taking its toll, "My ma spent her life trying to save lives, I'm not about to stand here while you talk about taking one."

Without another word, he went back to finishing his meal, ignoring the scolding he had received from his daughter who went and sat on the couch.

A moment later, she calmed down and looked back toward the two men at the table. "How long do you and Mr. Heyes plan on staying here?"

"Just a couple of days, ma'am. Posses tend to comb an area once they lose what they've been chasin'. After we feel they've gone on home, we'll make our way out as well."

"So, you intend to sleep here?"

"Yes ma'am."

Her eyes shifted from the outlaw to the bedroom.

"Your pa has a big ol' bed that I'm sure the two of you can share. He also has a chair that I can sleep in. I'll have to tie you both, but you have my word no harm will come to you, ma'am."

"As if your word is worth more than a plugged nickle." The man grumbled.

"Normally, I wouldn't disagree with you, but on this account, it's worth more than all the money I ever stole." With his plate in hand, he took it to the wash basin, cleaning it with the water pitcher near the sink.

"Do you mind if I check on your partner before we are tied up? He has me worried some." She asked, raising slowly from the couch.

"Yes ma'am, I would appreciate that."

* * *

"I've rolled him to his right side, he protested a bit, but I think it'll open up his lungs some."

She sat beside him on the bed, a damp cloth across his forehead. His eyes were closed, sleeping soundly. His skin was pale, his forehead was covered in a cold sweat; it was a sight that worried the Kid.

In one hand, she held his wrist. "His heart is beating much too fast. He said he came down on a set of rocks, is that correct?"

"Yes ma'am, sharp ones at that."

"We really should fetch a doctor. I only know what my mother taught me, and she was only a nurse. She learned what she knew during the war, never having any formal training."

"You're doing a fine job, ma'am."

"I could sleep in here tonight." She looked up at him, hopeful. "You could bring that chair beside the bed. You could even tie me to it. It's heavy, I'd make a fool racket if I tried to escape. It'd let me keep an eye on him and I'll yell for you if he gets any worse."

"That's real temptin' ma'am, but I need to be able to keep an eye on both you and your father."

She stood and stepped towards him. "I'll give you my word. You expect us to accept yours, surely you can accept mine? You can tie me good, just let me stay beside him."

Debating the idea, he tried to run the odds, but was quickly reminded that running odds wasn't his strong suit. Looking out, once again to her pa, he decided. "Alright. You can stay in here. But if you try anything, anything at all."

"I know, you will be with my father." She stated, coldly. "I don't think you and your partner are as bad as all the men in town say, but you were right, those dime novels are just as inaccurate." She shrugged and turned back to watch Heyes sleep, deflated, "Perhaps my father was right, sometimes a bad man is just that, a bad man."

"If you feel we are just bad men, why are you helping him?"

"Because the way I treat others is based off my character, not theirs." She turned and looked directly into his eyes.

Holding her glare, he felt a twinge of shame come up his spine. She was right, absolutely right. He'd spent the past few years lying to himself, convincing himself that what they were doing wasn't _that bad. _After all, they never took a life, but as he looked from the young girl out to her quiet father, he accepted a simple truth – only bad men hold guns on young girls; only bad men hold a knife to the throat of a man in front of his daughter; only bad men did exactly what they were doing. Taking Heyes' gun, he tucked it under his gun belt, pulling out some more raw hide, he took a deep breath before he had to prove, once again, that he was in fact, a bad man.

* * *

Walking into the bedroom the next morning, he breathed a sigh of relief. His partner was sitting propped against the pillows, listening to Mary read. His color had come back, but he still held his arm tenderly around his chest – he still hurt.

Resting on the chair, one hand tied behind her, she read from the book in her lap.

"From childhood's hour I have not been

As others were – I have not seen

As others saw - I could not bring

My passions from a common spring –

From the same source I have not taken

My sorrow – I could not awaken

My heart to joy at the same tone –

And all I lov'd – I lov'd alone –

Then – in my childhood – in the dawn

Of a most stormy life – was drawn

From ev'ry depth of good and ill

The mystery which binds me still –

From the torrent, or the fountain –

From the red cliff of the mountain –

From the sun that 'round me roll'd

In its autumn tint of gold –

From the lightning in the sky

As it pass'd me flying by –

From the thunder, and the storm –

And the cloud that took the form

(When the rest of Heaven was blue)

Of a demon in my view –"

Heyes was smiling, "Thank you, Mary. Who did you say wrote that?"

Taking her one free hand, she flipped the page, "A man by the name of Edgar Allan Poe. He's been published in several magazines; this is the most recent."

Handing it to Heyes, he looked at the cover, "Scribner's Monthly. I'll have to keep an eye out for this publication." He cast a smile towards his partner.

"You may keep that copy, if you like, I've already read all of the articles."

"Thank you, Mary."

"Uh, Mr. Curry, would you mind?" She gestured towards her other hand, the one tied tight to the back of the chair.

"Yes ma'am." He nodded as he proceeded to release her from her bindings. "Your father is still tied in his room, if you'd like to go ahead and let him go, you may."

As she left, he kept his eye on the main room, making sure the front door stayed within his vision. Removing the extra pistol from his waistband, he returned it to Heyes' holster, "You think you can stay awake the rest of the day?"

Heyes shifted slightly, only to release a muffled groan. "Kid, I can't explain it. Last night, I just couldn't keep my eyes open. Started to worry I might be on my way to glory."

"You weren't the only one worried. But you're feeling better?"

"It still hurts. But I can at least catch a good breath now and again."

"Good, I don't want to hang around here too long." Through the doorway, he saw Mr. Graham walk out of his room rubbing his wrists. A quick gesture with his pistol had him move on towards the couch to sit.

"He's still not givin' trouble, is he?"

"Just enough to not take my eye off him. Spent most of the night pulling at the raw hide. I don't think I slept more than an hour."

"Any sign of the posse?"

"Not yet. If they ran across your horse, they'll know we're still close."

"They'll sweep the area."

"They'll sweep the area." Kid parroted. "If we haven't seen them by nightfall, let's go ahead and head out."

"Who knows, maybe they gave up and went on back home."

"Right Heyes, when was the last time we were that lucky?"

* * *

The pounding on the door startled everyone in the room. Kid had just cleaned his lunch plate, Mr. Graham sat sulking on the couch, continuing to cast the darkest of looks towards the men. Mary had just brought Heyes' plate into the room, having fed him in bed.

Kid pulled out his pistol and pressed himself against the wall by the door and scanned of the room. All the blinds had been pulled shut, with the lanterns kept dim he was confident no one could see inside.

"This is Sheriff Wentworth from River Falls." The man on the other side of the door announced.

Ushering Mr. Graham into the room with Heyes, who now sat on the side of the bed, his gun firmly in his grip, Kid closed the door and quickly grabbed Mary. "Whatever you say, better sound real convincing." She nodded affirmatively. Pulling the hammer back on his gun, he crouched behind the counter in the kitchen, gesturing towards the door just as he pressed his back to the cabinet.

As she reached for the door handle, she took a deep breath, quickly composing herself. Opening it just a crack, she peered out into the bright daylight. "Sheriff, how may help you?"

"Ma'am," he spoke from the other side of the door. "Yesterday afternoon a train just west of here was held up by an outlaw gang, two of them headed this direction before we lost them about a mile from here. Now, me and my men are going house to house to see if anyone has seen anything suspicious."

She shook her head no, trying to appear as innocent as possible, "No sir, I haven't seen anything."

"Well, would you mind if a couple of my men take a look around, just to make sure?"

"Well, uh… normally, I wouldn't mind at all, but my father and I have been quite ill lately. It took a solid week for me to be able to hold anything down, he's still suffering something awful. You may search our grounds, but I don't think it would be in your men's best interest to come inside."

"Well, alright. Now, you're sure you haven't seen or heard anything amiss?"

"No sir, nothing at all." She smiled.

"Well, keep your guns close. These critters are peculiar. You two stay safe, ya hear?"

"Yes sir." She softly spoke as she closed the door, leaning up against it as she sighed.

"You did a good, Mary." Kid slowly stood.

"I was lying, that's not something I want to be good at."

* * *

Heyes watched the girl and her father as they sat on the couch. They remained quiet, just passively watching him as well. The Kid had gone outside to scout their surroundings and prepare the horse, leaving him inside.

Turning his gun to the door as it opened, he quickly relaxed at the sight of his partner.

"I walked around the property, no sign of the posse."

Heyes took another look outside. It was dark, well past midnight. No one should be able to see them leave.

"Did you get the horse ready?"

"It's ready." Turning to the pair, he motioned towards the back room. "Mr. Graham, I'll be tying you to the bed, your daughter will be in here."

"You're just gonna leave us here, tied up? We don't have visitors for days!" He stated, angrily.

"Don't worry. We'll make it where your daughter can get loose in just a couple of hours, just enough time for us to get some distance between us and here." Heyes added.

"What about my guns?"

"We'll tell your daughter where you can find them. Now…" With his pistol, he motioned towards the back room.

A few moments passed until Kid returned, placing a chair from the kitchen table in the middle of the room and motioning for her to sit. As he pulled her hands behind her, guilt continued to fill his soul. "The guns are in the stable, buried beneath a stack of hay. It's in a box I found in your shed, locked, the key is inside."

"How did you get the box open?"

Ignoring her question, he continued. "I'm not making the knot tight, if you work it slowly, you should be able to get it undone within a couple of hours. Your pa's are gonna take a bit longer, but you both should be free by morning. Also," he stood, pulling out some dollar bills from his pocket. "My partner can't ride yet, so we're gonna be taking your carriage. This should be more than enough for a new one." He placed the money on the table.

"On top of everything else, you're stealing our carriage?"

"Buying it, ma'am."

"Call it what you may, you know better."

Nodding in shame, he agreed, "Yes ma'am." Putting his hat back on, they started towards the door. Just before opening it, he turned, "Not sure if it matters, ma'am, but those dime novels did get one thing right. We've never shot anyone, and we didn't plan on starting now."

With a tip of the hat, they left in the night.

* * *

Kid met the doctor as he came down the stairs from the leader's cabin. "Well?"

A short man, he pushed his spectacles back up, "At least three ribs are busted clean, and another two feel cracked as well. Based off the symptoms you and he mentioned, I suspect he has a punctured lung. The good news is he's breathing well enough now."

"So, he'll be alright."

"Oh, yes, yes. Punctured lungs can be serious, but not necessarily life threatening. Just keep him still for the next week or so, and off his horse for at least an extra two weeks."

"How much do we owe you?"

"Usual fare, 5% of whatever got you into this mess in the first place."

"Lobo!" Kid called out to the outlaw standing on the cabin's front steps. "Pay the doctor."

As he started back towards the cabin, the doctor pulled on his arm, "Mr. Curry, would you be kind enough to remind Kyle that I appreciate him telling me when it is safe to remove the blindfold? Last time, he headed on back to camp without mentioning it. My horse wandered for a solid hour before I realized I was alone."

He nodded, "Lobo will take you out." He turned to his fellow outlaw, "Make sure he gets to town safe."

"Yes sir!" Lobo exclaimed as he handed the man his earnings.

* * *

The cabin was dark, a single lantern lit, but turned down to the lowest of settings. Heyes rested on his bed, slowly rousing at the sound of his partner.

"Doc leave?" He asked.

"Lobo's taking him now."

"How much did he charge?"

"Usual, 5%. I told the boys you'd be covering it with your share."

"You did what?" Heyes started to sit up, but quickly fell back on the pillow.

A moment passed as the Kid slowly started to smile. "Didn't he tell you to not be movin'?"

"He did. Gave me somethin' for the pain too. Doesn't seem to be doin' much for my side, but sure is makin' my head feel funny."

"Well, get some rest. I'll have Wheat give your chores to the other boys."

"'Ppreciate it. I wasn't looking forward to cleaning out the stalls."

"I also sent Hank and Henry out with the carriage. Their gonna take it to the livery in town and leave it. A note will be in the floorboard saying who it belongs to. The Grahams should have it within a week."

"That's mighty generous of you. We did pay for it, remember?"

"No Heyes, we stole it."

"That never been an issue for you before?"

Kid shrugged, shaking off the feeling he wanted to ignore, he smiled, "Maybe while you're restin', you can come up with a job where you don't get hurt."

With a shared smile, he turned back towards the cabin door. Seeing that his friend had fallen asleep, he left.


End file.
